A Matrix Christmas Carol
by TheMerryVingian
Summary: Agent Smith learns the folly of his ways in time for the Christmas season, with the help of the Zionists of Christmas Past, Present, and Future.
1. An unexpected visitor

Disclaimers: I don't own The Matrix Trilogy, or A Christmas Carol. Warner Bros. and the Wachowski Bros. own The Matrix, and I guess Charles Dickens owns A Christmas Carol. So nobody sue, okay?

This is a work of fiction. Any similarities... yadda, yadda, yadda… are purely coincidental.

A/N: Agent Thompson is Agent Smith's nephew in this fic, and the Merovingian is Smith's old partner.

And now, for a little holiday cheer, I give to you:

A Matrix Christmas Carol

(Agent HQ, inside the skyscraper from the first Matrix, Christmas Eve, daytime)

(We see several agents working. Most of them are anxious to get out for the Christmas holiday. One of them, though, who is in a lone office at the end of the hall and seems to be the Senior Agent in Charge, is extremely wrapped up in his work, and looks completely miserable. It is Agent Smith. Soon we hear a knock at the door.)

Smith: I'm busy.

Voice from outside: Sorry, sir, but I need to talk to you. It'll only take a second.

Smith: (sighing) All right. Come in.

(The door opens. It is Agent Brown.)

Agent Brown: Agent Smith? Ummm, some of the other agents and I were wondering if we could… close up the office a little early and throw a little Christmas party. We've already got the candy and goodies, and we brought some presents for a gift exchange.

Smith: So let me get this straight: you want to just knock off early from a job as important as guarding the Matrix against the Zionist rebels, who don't take breaks, just to exchange a few trinkets with each other and loaf around on official Agent property stuffing your faces with sweets. Is that what you're asking?

Agent Brown: Well… yeah.

Smith: Brown, you know me better than that. Don't insult my intelligence. And you've been here long enough to know that I don't go in for that sort of thing. Now get back to work.

Agent Brown: (dejected) Yes sir. (goes over to the thermostat on the wall just outside of Smith's office and starts to adjust it.)

Smith: _Agent Brown!_

Agent Brown: But Agent Smith, the room's getting cold.

Smith: (sighing) Come over here, Agent Brown.

(Agent Brown complies.)

Smith: (pointing to his shirt) Agent Brown, what's this?

Agent Brown: Uhhh, a shirt?

Smith: (pointing to his pants) What are these?

Agent Brown: Pants?

Smith: (pointing to his suit coat) And this?

Agent Brown: A jacket.

Smith: These are garments, Agent Brown. Garments were created for the purpose of protecting a program's shell against the cold. Heat… _burns_. Heat is limited, and heat is costly. There will be no more heat in this office from now on. Is that understood?

Agent Brown: Yes, sir.

(Agent Brown leaves. However, he leaves the door to Smith's office open. We then see Agent Thompson enter from the hallway. He is wearing a suit just like the other agents, but he is also wearing a Santa Claus hat, and carrying a bag full of candy canes.)

Agent Thompson: Ho ho ho! Merry Christmas!

The other agents: (at random) Merry Christmas!

(Agent Thompson passes out candy canes to the other agents. Soon he gets to Smith's office.)

Agent Thompson: Merry Christmas, uncle.

Smith: Bah! Humbug!

Agent Thompson: Christmas a humbug, you say?

Smith: What is Christmas, but a time for buying things? For finding a program's self a year closer to being obsolete, and not a dollar richer? (looks up from his desk at Agent Thompson) If I could spread my will throughout the Matrix, every idiot who goes about with "Merry Christmas" on his lips would be boiled in his own termination code and deleted with a steak of holly through his heart.

Agent Thompson: Surely you don't mean that.

Smith: Oh, but I do. What has Christmas brought to you that you should be so merry about it?

Agent Thompson: Well… although Christmas hasn't put money in my pocket, it has blessed me in more ways than you can possibly imagine. Christmas is the one day when both humans and programs can put aside their differences, help each other, and spread nothing but good cheer. So although Christmas hasn't put one dollar in my pocket, I say God bless it.

(Agent Brown claps at the speech, until Smith turns to him menacingly, silencing him.)

Smith: Not a sound from you or you'll keep your Christmas by losing your job. (turns back to Agent Thompson) That was quite a speech, nephew. You ought to run for Congress.

Agent Thompson: Well, then, I guess I'll leave you be, but before I do… (looks a bit smug) Merry Christmas.

Smith: Bah!

Agent Thompson: And a happy New Year.

Smith: Humbug!

(Agent Thompson leaves. As he is walking out…)

Agent Thompson: Merry Christmas, Agent Brown.

Agent Brown: Merry Christmas.

Smith: Idiot. (looks at his watch) And he's made me late getting out of here.

(Smith puts on his coat and makes his way out of the office. Before he exits, he stops to talk with Agent Brown.)

Smith: You'll want all day off tomorrow, I suppose.

Agent Brown: Yes sir.

Smith: But if I was to dock you a day's wages, you'd think I was a jerk. But you don't think of me as a jerk for paying you a day's wages for no work.

Agent Brown: It's only once a year, sir.

Smith: Hmph! Christmas: a lame excuse for picking a program's pocket every 25th of December… Well, be here all the earlier the next morning.

Agent Brown: Thank you.

Smith: Now, get back to work.

(Agent Brown returns to work, as well as the other agents. Smith exits.)

(A street corner, just outside the Agent HQ, late afternoon)

(We see a young boy, on crutches, wearing dark shades and a dark suit. He looks like a miniature agent on crutches! He is clearly waiting for someone.)

Boy: Merry Christmas, Agent Smith!

Smith: Go panhandle on another corner, kid.

Boy: I'm not panhandling, sir. I'm Tim. Tim Brown. I'm waiting for my father.

Smith: Really? Then you'll have a long wait.

(Smith immediately leaves Tim, who returns to waiting for Agent Brown. He continues down the street a little ways, and then is approached by two people. They are Ghost and Niobe.)

Ghost: Agent Smith?

Smith: Yes.

Niobe: Hello. I'm Niobe and this is Ghost. Around this time of year we collect donations for the poor and homeless of Zion. Many of them this time of year are without food or shelter. We are collecting money in the hopes of feeding them and giving them a roof over their heads for the holiday season.

Smith: What's happening? Are the jails not in service?

Ghost: They are, though we wish we could say they weren't.

Smith: What about the power plants? Are they working?

Niobe: Unfortunately, they are.

Smith: So what's the problem?

Ghost: We're hoping that we can get enough money together to provide these less fortunate people with some real warmth, and real hot meals. What can we put you down for?

Smith: Nothing.

Niobe: You want to be anonymous?

Smith: I want to be left alone. I pay taxes for the jails and the power plants. Why can't the Zionists just go there?

Ghost: Many can't go there, and many would rather die.

Smith: Well, if that's the case, then they'd better do so, and decrease the human population.

Niobe: Oh sir, you can't possibly mean that.

Smith: I can assure you that I do. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to be getting home.

(Smith pushes past Ghost and Niobe, who are still shocked by his attitude towards the less fortunate.)

(Outside Agent HQ, early evening)

(We see Tim, still waiting in the cold. We then see Agent Brown exiting the building, whom Tim immediately notices.)

Tim: Father!

Agent Brown: Tim! (runs over to meet him) My gosh, you feel like a popsicle. Does your mother know you're here?

Tim: I'm all right. Mom said I could come here and meet you.

Agent Brown: Well, I'm happy to see you, as always. We'll have the whole day tomorrow to be together.

Tim: All right! Christmas: the best day of the year!

(Agent Brown picks up Tim and carries him home. Meanwhile, we see Smith continuing his walk home. As he is walking home, he sees a Hearse drive by. It is carrying a coffin in the back. After it passes him, it disappears. Smith is very puzzled by this, but nonetheless continues. Soon he reaches his house. However, as he is proceeding to unlock and open the front door, a face appears over the knocker. It is the face of the Merovingian.)

Merovingian: (ghostly) Smith!

Smith: (puzzled) Merv?

(The Merovingian disappears, and Smith quickly goes inside his house and locks the door tightly. He goes up the stairs and changes into his pajamas. He then goes over to a small bar set up near his bed and makes himself a drink. However, while he is drinking it, he hears the locks on his door unlocking. He grabs his gun and rushes down the stairs to investigate, but sees no one inside. The door appears to open by itself, but he sees no one outside. He runs back up the stairs and locks the door to his bedroom. However, within moments, these locks are undone too. Smith aims his gun at whatever it is coming for him, but soon the Merovingian appears again, and Smith lowers his gun, puzzled yet again. The Merovingian is wearing a black dinner jacket and between 50-100 pounds of chains, handcuffs, rope and other bonding apparatuses. He sits down in one of two chairs in Smith's bedroom.)

Smith: (apprehensive) What do you want with me?

Merovingian: Much.

Smith: Well, who are you?

Merovingian: Ask me who I was.

Smith: Uhh, okay. Who were you then?

Merovingian: Before my deletion I was your partner, the Merovingian. (sees that Smith doesn't believe him) Do you not believe me? Do you doubt your senses?

Smith: Something affects them. I think it's my stomach. You could be that bad burger I ate for lunch today, or that drink I had a few minutes ago. There's more potato than program about you, I say. Humbug!

(The Merovingian leaps up and yells wildly, rattling his many chains in the process. This scares the b'Jesus out of Smith, who leaps behind his chair.)

Smith: Mercy.

Merovingian: Undeleted program, do you believe in me or _not_?

Smith: Yes, yes, I believe in you. But… if there are ghosts walking around the Matrix, why are they coming to me?

Merovingian: I have business to discuss with you. And it is very important that you listen.

Smith: By the way, what's with those chains? Is it some new form of bling-bling? Or did you get into that "bondage" stuff in the afterlife?

Merovingian: These chains are my penance, for not caring about Christmas, or about my fellow man, or program. Yours are as long and as heavy as those seven years ago when we were partners. You have labored on them since then.

Smith: (looking around) But… I don't see any chains.

Merovingian: Mine were invisible until the day of my deletion.

Smith: No. Speak to me. Comfort me.

Merovingian: I have none to give you. But I have a proposition for you.

Smith: Sure, Merv. You always had a good business sense.

Merovingian: Business? Mankind should have been my business. Caring, love, compassion, giving, selflessness… these all should have been my business. But no. All I cared about was money, power, and my own welfare. And now, I will be wearing what you see here for all eternity.

Smith: I'm… I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?

Merovingian: No. It's too late. But I've come… for _your_ sake.

(Smith perks up a bit at the Merovingian's words.)

Merovingian: I have come to offer you a chance at casting off your chains once and for all. Tonight you will be visited by three humans.

Smith: Are these three humans the chance and hope you're offering?

Merovingian: They are.

Smith: Then I think I'd rather not.

Merovingian: Expect the first human when the clock strikes one.

Smith: Uhh, couldn't they just come all three at once and be done with it?

Merovingian: (ignoring Smith) Expect the second human when the clock strikes two. The third human will come in his own time. Listen to them, and listen well. Or your chains will most certainly be heavier than mine.

(With that, the Merovingian opens a window, then flies out of it and disappears, leaving a cold gust of wind blowing into Smith's room. Smith stands there stunned, then comes to and closes the window. He then straightens up his room, then hops into bed.)

(Smith's house, 1 AM)

(Smith's alarm clock goes off. He turns it off and checks it. It reads 1 AM. He looks around and sees nobody there.)

Smith: Hmph. Humans.

(Smith goes back to sleep. Suddenly…)

Female voice: Agent Smith!?

TO BE CONTINUED…

I don't want this to get too long, so I'm gonna cut it off for now. We'll get into the three "humans" in the next few chapters. Until then, please R&R – let me know how you like it.


	2. The Zionist of Christmas Past

Disclaimers: Okay, once again, I don't own this stuff. WB and the Wachowski Bros. own the Matrix trilogy, and Charles Dickens owns A Christmas Carol.

This is fiction, not fact.

A/N: The Architect and The Oracle are married in this chapter. He is the father of the Matrix, and she is its mother, after all…

And now, chapter 2 of…

A Matrix Christmas Carol

Female Voice: Agent Smith!?

(Smith jolts awake, startled at the sudden, booming voice. He looks around. It seems to be coming from just outside his bedroom door. He gets up and goes over to the door. As soon as he opens it, a bright white light nearly blinds him. However, it soon subsides and Smith sees who it is – it is Trinity! She is dressed, of course, in her latex catsuit, and is carrying what appears to be a large, cone-shaped cap.)

Smith: Who are you?

Trinity: I am the Zionist of Christmas Past.

Smith: Past? What do you mean? Long past?

Trinity: No. _Your_ past.

Smith: (gesturing to the cap) What's up with that cap you have with you?

Trinity: I bring the program of truth. Would you use this cap to put it out?

Smith: Well… no. I meant no disrespect by it.

Trinity: Come on. Take my hand. We don't have much time.

(Smith takes Trinity's outstretched hand. Instantly the two are jacked into a construct, "Smith's Past." We see a snowy winter's morning, out more towards the country. Things are much cleaner and a bit quieter than the city.)

Smith: Oh my… is this!?

Trinity: Yes, Agent Smith. This is your past.

Smith: (looking at a nearby school building) This is my old boarding school! And look, it's my old friends Bobby, Edward, and Danny! Hey… HEY! Look, it's me, Smith!

(The three boys that he was apparently talking to just run by, apparently taking no notice whatsoever of him.)

Smith: What the… Do they not see me or something?

Trinity: No, they don't. In this construct, we are invisible, and as silent as the grave. But come now; let's go inside the school building. Do you know the way?

Smith: Ha, I could walk it blindfolded.

(Smith and Trinity go inside the school building. We then see a young boy, dressed in a dark suit and shades, reading from a book. He looks very depressed, and is clearly very lonely.)

Trinity: Agent Smith, do you know who this is?

Smith: Yeah, I know him. He's a young, neglected program. His mother program is deleted. His father program holds a grudge against him.

Trinity: Why?

Smith: Because his mother program got deleted in the process of giving birth to him.

Trinity: What else can you tell me about him?

Smith: Well, at first glance, he would seem to be with few friends, but in truth he hangs out with tons of interesting people day and night. Ali Baba, Sinbad, Wolverine…

Trinity: These "friends" (does quotation mark sign with fingers) of his were all storybook characters, weren't they?

Smith: (hanging his head in shame) Yes.

Trinity: Well, enough of this. Let's see you a little later in life.

(The construct swirls around, and stops right outside of another building in a remote location. The sign says "Agent Training Academy." Trinity leads Smith inside, where we see a young adult male, dressed almost exactly like Smith, sitting on a bench in the lobby, waiting.)

Trinity: Do you know who this is, Agent Smith?

Smith: Of course. It's me as a young man. I've just graduated from the Agent Training Academy, and I'm waiting for my ride.

Trinity: And here she comes.

(Trinity points to the front door, where we see a young female program enter. Young Smith's eyes light up at the sight.)

Young Smith: Sissy?

Sissy: Smith. How have you been? (hugging him) Oh how we've missed you so much.

Young Smith: I've missed you too. How I've longed to see you again.

Sissy: Well, this time, I'm here to bring you home. Father's much kinder than he used to be. When I noticed this, I asked him if I could bring you home, and he said yes.

Young Smith: Wonderful. Let's be off, then.

(As we see Sissy and Young Smith exiting, Trinity speaks to Smith.)

Trinity: You have many fond memories of her, don't you?

Smith: Why yes, I do. She was one of the few members of my family that kept in contact with me.

Trinity: She died young, though, didn't she?

Smith: Old enough to bear a child-program.

Trinity: And she did bear one… Agent Thompson, your nephew.

Smith: Yes… she did.

Trinity: He bears a strong resemblance to her, doesn't he?

Smith: Yes. Hmm, funny how I've never noticed.

(Trinity and Smith exit to see Young Smith and Sissy meeting Smith's father, who is also dressed in shades and a dark suit, just like Smith, but older, with grayer hair. He is a very stern man. We see Sissy and Young Smith go over to hug him, but he soon waves off Young Smith.)

Smith's Father: Stand back, son. Let me have a look at you.

(Young Smith does so, and Smith's Father gives him the once-over.)

Smith's Father: Well, they certainly haven't been overfeeding you.

Young Smith: (after a pause) I've grown, sir.

Smith's Father: Yes you have. Well, then, I'll take you two home, and I'll take Smith here to his new job in three days. I was able to get you a job as an agent for the Architect, and you will start work in three days time.

Sissy: Three days, Father? But… I was hoping that Smith could stay for longer.

Smith's Father: Three days is quite long enough. Now, in the car, both of you.

(Young Smith and Sissy promptly obey. Smith's Father follows them, and the three ride off.)

Trinity: Rather devoid of love, wouldn't you say?

Smith: (defensively) Shut your noise. My father was a wonderful father. He taught me how to overcome emotion, and how to put business first. All the success I've achieved, I owe to him. I have no need for silliness in my life.

Trinity: Well, funny you should mention that, because where we're going next, I'm seeing quite a different side of you.

(The construct swirls around again, and stops inside an office high up inside a skyscraper. We see many men and women, some agents, some in more clerical and administrative positions, all of whom are working. At the center of it all is their boss, the Architect.)

Trinity: You know who this is, don't you Agent Smith?

Smith: It's the Architect. Wow! This place sure brings back some memories.

Trinity: Well, that's what I'm here for… among other things.

(The Architect comes out of his office and gets everyone's attention.)

The Architect: Okay, everybody, that's enough work for tonight. Everyone put their pens down. Earpieces out, Merv and Smith.

(We see Young Smith and a younger Merovingian taking out their earpieces.)

The Architect: (continuing) Okay everyone, no more work for tonight. It's Christmas Eve. As you guys can see, we have the goodies and punch already set up, so if everyone will clear the room, we can get started with the party.

(We see everyone, including Young Smith and Young Merovingian, hustle to get the office furniture moved and get everything else set up. We then see the Architect's wife – the Oracle – and three young girls – his daughters. They are also helping.)

Smith: Wow, there's the Oracle. The Architect's wife. And there's the three Architect's daughters.

Trinity: You remember much, don't you?

Smith: (eyes lit up) And… there's Persephone.

Trinity: Right. You're old girlfriend, if I recall.

Smith: (smiling) Yes.

(Young Smith goes over to Persephone.)

Young Smith: Hiya, Seph.

Persephone: Hello.

Young Smith: Ummm… would you like to dance?

Persephone: (smiling) Sure.

(Young Smith leads Persephone by the hand into the center of the room, where there are others dancing, while one man sits on a stool playing a fiddle. The Merovingian is also dancing with another female – the Woman in Red – and so are the Architect and the Oracle. We see everyone dancing, laughing, and just plain enjoying themselves. They soon disappear, however, leaving Smith and Trinity standing alone in the room.)

Trinity: The old Architect, giddy, festive, danced like a monkey, did he not?

Smith: Well, he had a good business sense, and without him, I never would have gotten my start. And… I wouldn't have ever met Persephone.

(The construct swirls around again and stops on a city street not far from the Architect's skyscraper, where we see Young Smith and Young Merovingian talking.)

Young Merovingian: I can appreciate the fact that you are smitten with Persephone. But she seems a bit… out of your league.

Young Smith: Yeah, well, if tonight showed me anything, it's that I am meant to be with her. And one day, when I've made my fortune and achieve success… she'll see that I deserve her.

Young Merovingian: Tonight was a night never to be forgotten, wasn't it?

Young Smith: Yes it was.

(Trinity speaks to Smith as the construct swirls around again.)

Trinity: But you did forget. Now let's see another Christmas, delayed by the pressure of business.

(The construct stops swirling and we see another city street against a snowy day. Young Smith is walking briskly down the street towards… Persephone, who we see seated on a bench.)

Persephone: You're late.

Young Smith: I know.

Persephone: I was beginning to think that you weren't coming.

Young Smith: Well… I had to work late again. You know how my job is.

Persephone: It isn't just that, is it? I've been replaced. I have a rival out there.

Young Smith: Oh come on, Seph. What "rival" could you possibly have?

Persephone: One made out of gold and reinforced steel.

Young Smith: Come again?

Persephone: You've thrown me over for money and power. Both of these have consumed the love that you used to give to me. Quite frankly… I would have preferred a rival of flesh and blood to this.

Young Smith: Oh come on… So I've put forth some extra time into work, in order to move up a bit. But I haven't changed towards you.

Persephone: So what would you choose, then? Would it be me, or your job?

Young Smith: (looking trapped) Well… w-why should I have to choose?

Persephone: Oh Smith, what a safe and terrible answer! Well then… it seems you've chosen your own self over me. Then that's how it will be… Smith, I release you from your burden. May you be happy in the life you've chosen.

(Persephone turns around and slowly walks away, leaving Young Smith standing alone. He just stands there and watches her leave, Trinity and Smith looking on.)

Smith: I almost went after her, y'know.

Trinity: Almost doesn't cut it in matters of the heart. Up until now, we've seen what you've gained. Now… let's see what you've lost.

(The construct swirls around again, and stops on a city street similar to the last one. Here we see Persephone again, with two small twin albino boys, hair done up in dreadlocks. They are younger versions of the Twins. We then see a car pulling up. Out of it steps the Merovingian, who is apparently Persephone's husband now, as well as the father of the Twins. Persephone follows them.)

Twins: (at random) Father, father… What's in the bag?... Are there any presents in there?...

Merovingian: You will have to wait until tonight, both of you. Presents on Christmas Eve, as _usual_.

Persephone: Hello, hubby.

Merovingian: Good afternoon, love.

Persephone: Did you come here straight from work?

Merovingian: Yes, I did.

Persephone: Merv… just out of curiosity, how's Smith?

Merovingian: Well… about the same. When I left, he was still working, and showed no signs of leaving anytime soon. The truth is, I don't think he has anyone to go home to. He doesn't seem to be much of a people person. I feel kind of sorry for him, to tell you the truth.

Persephone: My goodness. I had no idea. I feel sorry for him too.

Smith: Oh please! Who are _you_ to talk, Merv? You were just as bad as me, if not worse!

Trinity: Smith, he can't hear you. And is that really true? Let me refresh your memory, with one more image.

(The construct swirls around once more, and stops inside a hospital. We see the Merovingian, lying dead on a steel table, with Smith and Agent Brown looking down upon him. Agent Brown looks a little sorrowful, but is trying not to let it show. Smith has a very cold look on his face. A/N: "Smith (construct)" is the Smith that is in the image, while "Smith" is the current Smith, who is watching this with Trinity.)

Smith (construct): Hmph. Deleted before his time. Too bad.

Agent Brown: I'm sorry, sir.

Smith (construct): Why? You didn't kill him. This was just waiting to happen… Well, tell the coroner that it's him, so we can get back to work.

Agent Brown: What about the funeral?

Smith (construct): (thinks for a second) Dump him into the sea. It'll be cheaper.

Agent Brown: (a bit taken aback at Smith's attitude, though not letting on) Yes sir.

(Agent Brown leaves. Smith (construct) and the body of the Merovingian then disappear, leaving Smith and Trinity alone in the hospital morgue.)

Trinity: Oh Smith. You had friends, the love of a good woman, and a sister who cared about you. But, and I hate to be blunt, you pissed it all away for money and power.

Smith: (angry) Shut up! I don't need your pity.

Trinity: Don't shoot me. I'm just the messenger.

Smith: And don't need any more of your constructs from the past.

(Trinity just sits there looking smug as Smith paces around in frustration, tearing at his hair and screaming.)

Smith: _Leave me alone!_

(Smith takes the "cap" that Trinity has been carrying with her. She just sits there smiling, not even resisting. He places it on her head and presses down, "smothering" her. While he does this, the construct swirls.)

Trinity: (echoing) You can't snuff out the truth… you can't snuff out the truth…

(The construct finally swirls out, leaving Smith alone in his bedroom. He is out of bed, in his pajamas, still in "smothering" position, until he realizes that he is out of the construct and in his bedroom. He comes to and looks around in relief.)

Smith: (sighing) Whew! Just a dream. (crawls back into bed) And yet… so real. Just let me sleep now. Just let me sleep, in peace…

(Smith's bedroom, 2 AM)

(We hear Smith's alarm clock go off. Smith promptly silences it and looks at it. It reads 2 AM. He looks around and sees no one there.)

Smith: Two o'clock, and no human. Ahh, Merv, mistaken in death, as you were in life, old partner.

(Smith goes back to sleep. Suddenly…)

Male voice: (deep and booming) Agent Smith!?

(Smith jolts awake to see another bright light coming from outside his closed bedroom door. He gets up and goes over to open the door.)

TO BE CONTINUED…

Well, sorry it took a while to get this updated, but here it is, as you can see. I'm working really hard to get this whole story completed before Christmas. But anyway, hope you enjoyed it. Please R&R :-)


	3. The Zionist of Christmas Present

Disclaimers: Okay, once more: don't own 'em. The Wachowski's and WB own the Matrix Trilogy, Dickens owns A Christmas Carol.

Fiction, not fact.

And here we go with chapter 3 of…

A Matrix Christmas Carol

Male voice: (deep and booming) Agent Smith!?

(Smith jolts awake to see another bright light coming from outside his closed bedroom door. He gets up and goes over to open the door. As soon as he does, he is temporarily blinded by the bright light, but soon it fades to reveal… Morpheus! He is dressed in his purple suit and leather trench coat, and is holding a torch. He has a big smile on his face, which makes him seem almost like royalty. He is seated in a big, comfy chair, surrounded by all sorts of wealth – jewels, fancy plates and silverware, expensive food and drink, etc. Smith is quite astonished at the sight.)

Smith: Wow! Where did all this stuff come from?

Morpheus: It belongs to me, for I have quite a few mouths to feed in my family.

Smith: Well… how many, to be exact?

Morpheus: Over 1,800! (laughing jovially)

Smith: Who are you, anyway?

Morpheus: I am the Zionist of Christmas Present.

Smith: Christmas Present? So you're the second of the three humans that are supposed to visit me.

Morpheus: I am.

Smith: So how _did_ you come into all this stuff?

Morpheus: Generosity, my good man. Generosity. I have made it an effort to bless my fellow man, and it has come back to me tenfold. But it is nothing compared to the good feeling I get from doing so; for that is something money cannot buy. But enough about me. I am here to help you learn how to be generous, and kind. We don't have much time. So take hold of my trench coat.

(Smith does so, and everything swirls, just like with Christmas Past. They enter a construct in which it is morning. There are people out in the streets: buying various holiday items from various merchants, socializing, spending time with family and friends, etc. Everyone seems quite happy.)

Smith: So, what day is this supposed to be?

Morpheus: Can you not tell? It's Christmas morning.

Smith: Oh, so that's what's with all the giddiness. By the way, what's up with that torch?

Morpheus: Within this torch is the power of Christmas. I can use it to spread a little holiday cheer wherever it's needed.

(As Morpheus proceeds to lead Smith towards their destination, we see two oncoming cars nearly hit each other at an intersection. The two drivers step out of their vehicles, both mad.)

Driver #1: Are you some kinda maniac? Driving like that? You nearly hit me!

Driver #2: I had a green! What're you doin', runnin' a red like that?

(Morpheus stops and waves his torch around. All of a sudden, the two drivers' faces soften.)

Driver #1: Aww man, I'm sorry about that. We shouldn't be fighting like this, on Christmas Day.

Driver #2: No, it's okay. How 'bout we go to that bar over there and I buy ya a brew?

Driver #1: Well… okay.

(The two drivers leave their cars and go across the street to a tavern.)

Smith: You were right. There _is_ a power in that torch.

Morpheus: I told you. But come now, let's get going.

(Morpheus continues to lead Smith, until both of them reach a shabby-looking house in a poorer section of town. They stop near the front door, and Morpheus speaks to Smith.)

Morpheus: Do you know this place?

Smith: Uhh, no. I can't say that I do.

Morpheus: This is the home of one Agent Brown.

Smith: Agent Brown? One of my employees? I'll say, he does quite well for what I pay him.

Morpheus: Does he? Come in. Let's see just what he goes through on Christmas.

Smith: Well, I don't want to disturb him.

Morpheus: As with Christmas Past, we will be unseen and unheard.

(Morpheus leads Smith inside, where we see a handsome woman and several children of various ages (all wearing matching suits, shades, and earpieces, mind you) making various preparations around the house – cooking, cleaning, washing linens, etc. They are waiting for Agent Brown and his son, Tim, who we met in chapter one. We see another of their sons, Peter, attempt to eat something cooking on the stove, but he is promptly caught by Mrs. Brown.)

Mrs. Brown: _Peter! _Shame on you. You know better than to eat something while it's still cooking, especially dessert.

Peter Brown: I was just testing the pudding, mum.

Mrs. Brown: If you keep testing it like that, there won't be any for us after Christmas dinner.

Peter Brown: Well, I can't help it, mum. Your pudding's so delicious.

Mrs. Brown: It is, is it?

Katrina Brown (one of the daughters): No one makes a better pudding than you, mum.

Mrs. Brown: Thank you, both of you. Now hustle along. We need to get everything ready in time for dinner. Your father and brother will be home shortly.

(Morpheus and Smith watch for a few more minutes. Soon after Agent Brown enters, carrying Tim. Both are still wearing their suits, shades, and earpieces. Agent Brown is also carrying in his other hand Tim's crutch.)

Agent Brown: Hello, children.

The other Brown children: (at random) Father… Hello, father… Merry Christmas…

Agent Brown: And a very Merry Christmas to you all too.

Mrs. Brown: So how was Tim today?

Agent Brown: As good as gold and better.

Tim Brown: Father had a long talk with the minister.

Mrs. Brown: That's good, Tim. Why don't you go see if your brothers need any help?

Tim Brown: Yes, mum.

(Exit Tim as Agent and Mrs. Brown continue to speak.)

Agent Brown: Darling, you should have been there with us today and heard what Tim had to say. During the sermon, Tim whispered to me that he hoped that people would see him and remember who it was that reprogrammed the lame to walk and the blind to see.

Mrs. Brown: Wow. That must have been something.

Agent Brown: I'm telling you, I have a good feeling about our son. I really do think that Tim is getting stronger every day. I even think that he might walk again.

(About an hour later)

(We see the entire family gathered around the dinner table, with Morpheus and Smith looking on, as Mrs. Brown brings in a covered dish. She sets it at the center of the table and lifts the cover to reveal… a small Christmas ham. All the children are cheering and proceeding to dig in, until Agent Brown stops them.)

Agent Brown: (tapping a spoon on the table) AHEM! Aren't we forgetting something?

(Everyone becomes silent and bows their heads.)

Agent Brown: Oh Lord, we thank you for this blessing that you are about to bestow on us. We ask that you bless it to our bodies and our bodies to your service. We also thank you for this very special holiday, and ask that you bless it as well. In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.

Everyone else: AMEN!

Tim Brown: And God bless us all, everyone.

(With this, everyone starts to chow down, Morpheus and Smith watching.)

Smith: That ham looks a little small, doesn't it?

Morpheus: It's all Agent Brown can afford.

(The two continue to watch. Smith is especially curious about Tim.)

Smith: Tell me something, Morpheus: _will _Tim make it? Will he walk again?

Morpheus: All I can say is this: if these scenarios remain unchanged… then the child will die.

Smith: Oh dear.

Morpheus: (sardonic) But if he is to die, then I guess he'd better do so, "and decrease the human population."

Smith: (taken aback) You're using my own words against me?

Morpheus: Then I guess next time you'll heed your own words. Because if you were to take a short walk around Zion right now, you would find that you are more worthless than _millions_, like this poor program's child.

(Smith is rather surprised at Morpheus' judgmental tone. A little later, we see Mrs. Brown bringing out the pudding. She gives some to Agent Brown first to taste. He does so, savoring the flavor.)

Agent Brown: Well, love… on a scale of 1 to 10 I would rate this at about... eleven!

(The children cheer as Mrs. Brown serves pudding to them. They eat up. Afterwards, Agent Brown stands.)

Agent Brown: And now, I would like to make a toast. To Agent Smith, the founder of our feast.

(The children hesitate as Mrs. Brown stands up to reply.)

Mrs. Brown: Hmph! The founder of our feast indeed. If your boss were here right now, I'd give him a piece of my mind to feast upon. And hope he had a good appetite.

Agent Brown: Honey, the children. It's Christmas.

Mrs. Brown: My point exactly. Why should Christmas be wasted drinking a toast to such a stingy, tight-fisted, sadistic, brainless, heartless, soulless, penny-pinching, mean-spirited man such as Agent Smith…

Smith: (eyes widened) Good grief, woman.

Mrs. Brown: …Well, I'll drink to your toast, for your sake, and the sake of the children, and the day's sake, but _not_ for his. Long life and prosperity, to Agent Smith.

Agent Brown: Agent Smith.

The other children: (at random) Agent Smith…

Tim Brown: Agent Smith.

(Everyone drinks up. The whole family then gets together and opens presents and sings carols.)

Smith: Well, heh-heh… you heard 'em. Without me there'd be no feast. So can I go now?

Morpheus: Not quite. You still have much to learn. Take hold of my coat.

(Smith does so. The construct swirls around again, and they end up in front of a swankier house, where it is clear that there is a Christmas party going on inside.)

Smith: Where are we now?

Morpheus: I'm awfully surprised that you don't know. It's the home of your nephew, Agent Thompson. It's their annual Christmas party/dinner. The one you always refuse to go to.

Smith: Well, uhh… it just seems a bit silly, that's all.

Morpheus: Oh Smith, I almost pity you. But come, let's go inside.

(Inside we see Agent Thompson and Brittany, his wife, mingling amidst the guests. Among them we see Agents Johnson, Jackson, and Jones, and also Switch, Apoc, Link, Dozer, and Mouse. They are all having a good time.)

Agent Thompson: Thank you guys for coming here, but especially thanks to you humans, seeing as how the other 364 days a year we agents shoot at you.

Apoc: That's the beauty of Christmas. It's the one day of the year where we can say "to heck with all our differences."

Everyone else: Amen!

Brittany: Well, except for maybe one person. And I think you guys know who that is.

Everyone: (at random) Yeah… right…

Agent Thompson: Speaking of which, I happened to bump into my uncle just yesterday afternoon.

Switch: Did you invite him to the party?

Agent Thompson: I do every year. But this time around, he didn't even give me the chance to give him the invite.

Link: What did he say?

Agent Thompson: That's the funny part. He called Christmas a "humbug." He believed it too.

Mouse: What else did he say?

Agent Thompson: He gave me some baloney about spreading his will through the Matrix and deleting programs with steaks of holly… I dunno. I had my earpiece turned off by then.

(Everyone laughs as Smith gets a look of surprise on his face.)

Agent Jackson: So what did you end up saying to him, finally?

Agent Thompson: What I end up saying every year: "Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!" Y'see, every year I'll always invite him to our annual Christmas party.

Brittany: And every year he'll say, "Christmas?"

Everyone: (finishing the quote) "BAH! HUMBUG!" (laughing)

Smith: _This_ is what you bring me here to see? People laughing and making merry at my expense?

Morpheus: You need to see this. There is a lesson in here, if you look hard enough.

(Agent Thompson goes to the middle of the room and gets everyone's attention.)

Agent Thompson: Okay, everyone! If I could have your attention please!

(Everyone gets quiet.)

Agent Thompson: It is now time for the Christmas games, which we do every year, as most of you all know. We're going to start this year... with charades. We will divide into two teams. Let's see, how should we divide the teams this year?

Agent Jones: Let's do boys against girls.

Switch: Yeah, I can do that.

Brittany: Me too.

Agent Thompson: Anyone here object?

(No one speaks.)

Agent Thompson: Okay then, boys against girls it is. Let's everyone go to their teams, and we can get started.

(All the guys go to one side, and the girls go to the other.)

Agent Thompson: Okay… Ummm, let's let the ladies start.

(Brittany goes up to the middle of the room. Immediately she begins acting out her chosen charade. She acts like a mean-looking uptight old man, walking with a cane.)

Lady #1: Old man.

(Brittany continues.)

Lady #2: Grouchy old man.

(Brittany acts like she is bending over to pick up a penny. She pinches it very tightly.)

Lady #1: Penny-pincher.

(Brittany signals the group to say that they're getting warmer.)

Switch: Agent Smith!

Brittany: YES!

(Brittany rejoins her team, who are all high-fiving each other.)

Smith: Well, I'm watching, and all I see is that I'm disliked by others. So what's the lesson here, work hard to be more popular?

Morpheus: No, there is a deeper lesson to be learned here. I have one more scenario to show you, and then we will be done. Hopefully you will have learned by then. Take hold of my coat.

(As the games continue, Smith obeys. The construct swirls and stops at a city street at night. There are many homeless people standing, sitting, or lying about on it.)

Smith: What is this? It looks like just another street. Except that there's a bunch of bums around on this one.

Morpheus: Bums? _Bums? _I think you need to take a closer look.

(Morpheus leads Smith closer to three people huddled around a fire burning in a metal drum.)

Kamala: Do we have enough wood for tonight?

Rama-Kandra: (tossing some wood into the fire) I think so.

Seraph: Where did you get all this, Rama?

Rama-Kandra: (defensively) I didn't steal them if that's what you're implying!

Kamala: He wasn't suggesting that you did.

Rama-Kandra: He should have more respect.

Seraph: I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.

Rama-Kandra: (sighing) I'm not a thief. Not yet anyway.

(Rama-Kandra steps away from the group, Kamala following him.)

Kamala: Please, honey. Come back to the fire.

Rama-Kandra: Kamala, look. (holds out his hands) Look at my hands. They're hard hands, from doing hard work. I _want_ to work. I _want_ to provide for you and Seraph… Kamala, I love you. Tomorrow… I want you to take Seraph, and go to the homeless shelter.

Kamala: No! Never! I'd rather that I and Seraph be deleted, or drown in a pool of liquefied human remains, than go to one of those places.

Rama-Kandra: Not even temporarily, until I get work.

Kamala: Rama, we are a family. We must stay together.

(Rama-Kandra's face softens.)

Kamala: Now please, come back to the fire with us.

(Rama-Kandra does so, Smith and Morpheus all the while watching them.)

Smith: What a bunch of idiots. They'd rather live on these filthy streets, eat garbage, and wear flea-bitten rags than go to a shelter where they'd have a roof over their heads? Hmph! My tax dollars at work.

Morpheus: Are they not part of this world!?

(Smith is surprised at Morpheus sudden tone of voice.)

Morpheus: Smith, take a look at these two!

(Morpheus opens his trench coat to reveal: Sati and the Spoon-Bending Kid! They are dressed in rags, just like the other homeless people on the street.)

Morpheus: Smith, do you know who these two are?

Smith: Ummm, no. I don't.

Morpheus: They are your children! They are the children of all who walk the Matrix! The boy is Ignorance! The girl is Want! Beware of both of them, but of the boy especially, for on his brow is one word!

Smith: (struggling to read the word on the Spoon-Bending Kid's forehead) "Spoon?"

(Morpheus takes a peek at the Spoon-Bending Kid, and sees the word.)

Morpheus: Oh, heh-heh. That's a misprint. It should say… "Doom!"

(Smith face becomes full of dread.)

Smith: Cover them… I don't want to see them.

Morpheus: Hm, hm, hm. Suit yourself. (closes his trench coat) They're hidden. But they live. Oh yes, my boy. They live.

(Morpheus looks at his watch.)

Morpheus: Well, Smith, the time has come for me to leave you.

Smith: L-_leave me?_

Morpheus: Oh yes.

Smith: Well… take me back to my bedroom. I gotta wait for the third human.

Morpheus: Hm, hm, hm. Uh-uh. It's too late for that.

(Morpheus, laughing, disappears, along with the other people, leaving Smith all alone within the construct.)

Smith: Hey, hey! Where did you go? _Come back!_

(Smith looks around. There is no one.)

Smith: All right, fine! You made your point! I didn't do enough charity work in life! I put my needs ahead of others at times! Fine! You come back here, and we can cut a deal!... _Zionist!!! Get back here!!!_

(Still nothing. Smith's heart sinks, and he slides up against a light post, sighing.)

Smith: Oh dear God. What have I done?

**TO BE CONTINUED…**

Okay, sorry it's taking so long, but here's chapter 3. I'll get chapters 4 and 5 done really soon – hopefully by Christmas day! Please R&R :-)


	4. The Zionist of Christmas Future

Disclaimers: Don't own 'em. WB, the Wachowski's, and Charles Dickens do.

Fiction, not fact.

And now, chapter 4 of…

A Matrix Christmas Carol

(A deserted city street, around 3 AM)

(We see Smith just as we last left him, slumped against a light post, all alone. While he is not asleep, his eyes are closed. However, a very bright light brings him around. He takes a look towards it and immediately sees, at the center of it, a dark figure. He is wearing a full-length coat, with a hooded robe over it. We cannot see his face. He looks very spooky. Smith looks very nervous.)

Smith: I take it that you are the Zionist of Christmas Future.

(The hooded figure nods.)

Smith: I also take it that you're here to show me what hasn't happened yet, but what will happen in the future.

(The hooded figure nods again.)

Smith: I gotta say… I fear you, worse than any of those that have visited me yet so far.

(The hooded figure just stands there.)

Smith: You don't say much, do you?

(Hooded figure just stands there again.)

Smith: Could you at least let me have a look under that hood? At least let me have that.

(The hooded figure takes off his hood to reveal… Neo!)

Smith: Mr. Anderson?

Neo: Thanks. It was getting a bit too warm under there.

Smith: They sent _you_ to teach me about Christmas?

Neo: Hey, I'm as Christmas-y as the next guy. But I'm not really supposed to talk.

Smith: Why?

Neo: I dunno, it's in my contract. It says that I have to be spooky and intimidating.

Smith: ... Okay.

Neo: But I'm not gonna wear that hood. It's just too uncomfortable. But from this point on, I'm not allowed to even speak to you.

Smith: Hmph! Suit yourself. Well, let's get this over with. My time is precious to me.

(Neo points Smith in the direction that he wants him to go. All of a sudden we see a bright flash of lightning, and the construct changes. We see the outside of the Agent HQ building where Smith and the agents under him work. They go into the lobby to find Agents Johnson, Jackson, and Jones talking on their way out.)

Agent Johnson: So when did he delete?

Agent Jackson: Uhh, sometime last night, if I recall.

Agent Jones: So when's the funeral?

Agent Jackson: Sometime in a couple of days. I dunno, I wasn't really planning on going anyway.

Agent Jones: Why not? He was still a fellow agent.

Agent Jackson: Yeah, maybe, but that was it.

Agent Johnson: But if we don't go, there might not be anyone at all at his funeral.

Agent Jones: Yeah, we should make up a party and go. The three of us.

Agent Jackson: I'll tell ya what: I'll play ball if they provide lunch, but _only_ if they provide lunch. I expect to be well-fed for this.

Agent Johnson: I'm sure they will.

(The three agents laugh.)

Agent Jones: Oh well, see you guys in a couple of days.

Agent Johnson: Later.

Agent Jackson: Happy grieving…

(Exit the three agents, laughing, leaving Smith and Neo alone in the lobby.)

Smith: What is this? A program's just been deleted, and all they can think about is food. And it sounds like he was one of their own. Have they no respect?

(Neo just stands there and says nothing.)

Smith: What's going on here? And what does this have to do with me?

(Another flash of lightning, and Smith finds himself in an empty, but strangely familiar bedroom. The room is empty except for a bed in the middle of it, with a covered up lump on it. The lump is in the shape of a corpse. Neo stands beside the bed, pointing for Smith to lift up the covers. He hesitates, then reaches to do so. He suddenly stops just inches short.)

Smith: No. This is something that even you can't make me do. (takes a step towards Neo) I don't need to lift the sheet to know that this program is dead. And I _refuse_ to do so until you show me somebody that feels some sort of… emotion over this program's deletion!

(Another flash of lightning, and Smith finds himself in a rundown section of town, indigents and drunken hoodlums littered about. Neo leads him towards a small pawnshop and has him go inside. Once inside, he finds a woman working behind the counter. It is Zee, Link's wife. Moments later, we see the Trainman enter, carrying a large sack full of various items, which he sets upon the counter.)

Trainman: Hey look, Zee. Just came into a mother lode of nice stuff. Had to have belonged to some rich guy, but I found it just lying on the street.

Zee: Mmmhmm, sure. "Just lying on the street."

Trainman: What? You think I stole it?

Zee: Hey, I wouldn't care if you did. Just show me the stuff, and _maybe_ we'll talk.

(Trainman begins taking out the items from the sack. Among them are… Smith's Desert Eagle handgun, his bar set, and some of his dishes. Smith is quite flabbergasted.)

Smith: What the… Those are _my _things. What are they doing in such a place like this? Or for that matter, how did this guy come into them in the first place? He couldn't have broken in – I'd have caught him for sure.

(Zee looks at the items. She soon finds Smith's alarm clock. The display is broken, but when she plugs it in, she sees that it still works.)

Smith: (disbelief) No, that's not my clock. Yes, it's similar, but…

(Zee finishes examining the items, then does some figuring in her head, the Trainman waiting anxiously.)

Zee: Hmmm… I can give you $200 for all this. But not one cent more.

Trainman: Gosh, you've got a hard heart.

Zee: I'm always nice to you guys. That's why my business isn't booming.

(Zee laughs as she gives Trainman the money. Smith looks disgusted.)

Smith: I ask you to show me some feeling over the guy's deletion, and all you can show me is greed and avarice? That's not good enough. I figured you were smart enough to understand that by emotion I meant sorrow and grief. Let me see some _tenderness_ for this program!

(Another flash of lightning, and Smith finds himself standing in front of Agent Brown's home. Neo points towards the door.)

Smith: What's this? There must be some mistake. Your fellow human brought me here earlier.

(Neo just stands there pointing, saying nothing.)

Smith: Right. (goes inside)

(Inside we see all the children except Tim huddled around Mrs. Brown. Peter, the oldest son, is reading from the Bible.)

Peter Brown: "… and Jesus said unto his disciples, 'Suffer little children to come unto me, and forbid them not: for of such is the kingdom of God. Verily I say unto you, Whosoever shall not receive the kingdom of God as a little child shall in no wise enter therein.'" (closes the Bible)

Mrs. Brown: Very good, Peter. (is trying to sew, but cannot finish because her eyes hurt) This color hurts my eyes. It makes them red, and I don't want to show red eyes to your father when he gets home.

Katrina Brown: He walks much slower than he used to.

Mrs. Brown: Ironic, isn't it? He walked so much faster when he would carry Tim, but now that he's gone, he walks slowly.

(Agent Brown arrives home, alone.)

Agent Brown: Hello, children.

The kids: (at random) Hello, father.

Mrs. Brown: Hello, darling.

Agent Brown: Hello.

Mrs. Brown: Did you go… you know?

Agent Brown: Yes, I did. I promised Tim that I would go, every day after work. I promised him that we would all come by every Sunday.

Mrs. Brown: I think that's wonderful.

The kids: (at random) Me too… I do too…

Agent Brown: (after a pause) He was a blessing to us all, wasn't he?

Mrs. Brown: Yes he was.

Peter Brown: Yes he was.

Agent Brown: He was such a joy to have around, and now…

(Agent Brown suddenly chokes up. He goes over to the fireplace mantle, fighting hard to hold back tears. Mrs. Brown and the kids walk over to console him.)

Agent Brown: (still holding back tears) I'm fine. Really, I am.

Mrs. Brown: Oh honey, you mustn't grieve so.

Katrina Brown: Mum's right, father. You still have all of us.

Agent Brown: (regaining his composure) You're right. And every single one of you is a blessing. Yes, we all must be strong. Tim would have wanted that.

(Agent Brown returns to the middle of the room with the rest of his family.)

Agent Brown: By the way, Agent Thompson called me into his office today because he saw that I was sad. He asked me why, and I told him. And he said that he was really sorry, and that if there was anything that he could do to help us out, then we shouldn't hesitate to call on him. Lovely fellow, he is. I think it's great that he's taken over as Agent in Charge, ever since… well, you know…

(Smith, who has been watching this whole scenario with Neo, turns to him.)

Smith: Well done. You have finally shown me someone who cares about this program's deletion. I'm ready now… Take me home.

(A flash of lightning, and Smith finds himself in the middle of a graveyard during a windstorm.)

Smith: What is this? I thought you were going to take me home.

(Neo says nothing, but instead motions for Smith to follow him. Smith does so. Neo stops at a single grave, covered with snow, and points to it.)

Smith: (sighing) All right, I'll look at it, on one condition: that you answer me this question. Are these scenarios of things that are _certain_ to happen, or scenarios of things that _might_ happen only? I just want to know: will some sort of altered life somehow change these things?

(Neo points again, saying nothing.)

Smith: What a conversationalist they've sent me.

(Smith finally brushes away the snow covering the tombstone. It reads: "Agent Smith." Smith is horrified.)

Smith: No, _no! _No, no, no, no… I'm not the program I was. I _promise _that I won't be the program I was.

(Smith falls at Neo's feet, Neo just standing there watching.)

Smith: I swear that I will honor Christmas and will keep it in my heart the whole year round. I will allow all three forces of Christmas Past, Present, and Future to work within me. I will _not _shut out the lessons that they have taught.

(Tears begin to well up in Smith's eyes as he continues.)

Smith: Please tell me… that by honoring the spirit of Christmas that I might somehow change the course of these events. Please tell me… that I might somehow be able to… chisel away what is written on this tombstone. (breaks down crying) Please… spare me…

Neo: (after a pause) What a wuss.

(After a few moments, we see Smith raise up, tears still in his eyes. However, the scenario is gone, and so is Neo. Smith is back in his bedroom. Upon seeing this, he stops crying, and feels great relief.)

Smith: Oh Mr. Anderson, thank you. Thank you. I have every intention of keeping my promise. I _will _honor Christmas in my heart and keep it the whole year round. I promise this to all three Zionists… and to you, Merovingian. Thank you… Thank you…

TO BE CONCLUDED…

Well, that's chapter 4. The last chapter will be coming VERY soon – with any luck in time for Christmas. Until then, please R&R – I do love getting those :-D


	5. Epilogue

Disclaimers: Okay, one more time: I don't own this stuff. WB and the Wachowski's own the Matrix trilogy, and Dickens owns A Christmas Carol. So nobody sue, okay?

Fiction, not fact.

And here we are: the conclusion of…

A Matrix Christmas Carol

(Smith's bedroom, morning)

(We hear Smith's alarm clock go off. It is about 9 AM. Smith immediately wakes up and turns off the alarm. He looks around.)

Smith: It's morning. But of what day?

(Smith goes over to the window and opens it. Outside, running along the street is the Kid (the one that Neo made contact with at the end of the first Matrix and the one who fought under Mifune in Revolutions). He quickly gets his attention.)

Smith: Hey kid! Yeah, you! Can you tell me what day it is?

Kid: Today? Why it's Christmas, sir!

Smith: Christmas Day. I haven't missed it. The Zionists did it all in one night. I didn't even think it could be done, but they did it. (turns back to the Kid) Hey kid! Do you know the open market on the corner a couple blocks away?

Kid: Yes?

Smith: Do you know if they've sold that prize Christmas ham?

Kid: The one that's as big as me?

Smith: (chuckling to himself) Remarkable boy. (to the Kid) Yes, the one as big as you!

Kid: No, they haven't! It's still hanging there now!

Smith: Go and buy it! Have it brought back here! Come back with the deliveryman and I'll give you a twenty-dollar bill! In fact, if you can get back here within ten minutes, I'll give you a hundred!

(The Kid instantly takes off running as fast as he can towards the market that Smith pointed him to. Smith, meanwhile, begins to hurriedly dress.)

Smith: Gotta hustle. I've only got ten minutes to get dressed. And so much to do today too. (leaps up in the air) Merry Christmas to everyone, and a happy New Year!!

(The front door of Smith's house, ten minutes later)

(We see Mifune, from Revolutions, carrying a HUGE Christmas ham, with the Kid standing beside him. The Kid knocks on the door, and the two then wait for an answer.)

Mifune: Kid, if this is a prank, so help me, I'll knock the crap outta that little head of yours.

Kid: No, sir. He really did send me for the ham. Honest.

(Smith opens the door. He is dressed in his suit, but this time is not wearing his shades, or his earpiece.)

Smith: Good. You're here. (hands Kid a crisp 100-dollar bill) Here ya go, kid. Here's your $100.

(The Kid takes it and runs off joyfully.)

Mifune: So, where should I put this?

Smith: This is not for me, but is for one Agent Brown. (hands Mifune a slip of paper, as well as the money for the ham) Here's his address on this slip of paper. One very important thing, though: if Agent Brown or any of his family members ask who sent them the ham, you _must _tell them that he wishes to remain anonymous. Okay?

Mifune: Yes sir. Will do. And thank you, sir.

Smith: Thank you.

(Mifune loads the ham into the back of his refrigerated truck and drives off in the direction that Smith has pointed him. Smith goes back inside to put on his coat.)

(Outside Agent Brown's house, about twenty minutes later)

(We see Mifune pull up in his truck, get out, and get the ham from out of the back. He carries it up to Agent Brown's front door and knocks. Agent Brown answers.)

Agent Brown: Can I help you, sir?

Mifune: Are you Agent Brown?

Agent Brown: Yes.

Mifune: I have a ham here that is to be delivered to you.

Agent Brown: Wow, that's an awfully big ham. But I didn't order it.

Mifune: This prize ham has been bought and paid for, and the man who bought it ordered that I deliver it to you.

(Agent Brown hesitates, then takes the ham off of Mifune's hands.)

Agent Brown: Who had you deliver the ham to us? What was his name?

Mifune: (walking back towards his truck) "Anonymous!"

(Cut to a shot of Agent Brown in the dining room, surrounded by Mrs. Brown and all the children, including Tim. The prize ham is on the table, a very large towel under it to catch the water from it thawing.)

Peter Brown: So where did this come from, Father?

Agent Brown: I don't know. Somebody apparently bought it and sent it to us as a gift.

Katrina Brown: Who was it?

Agent Brown: I don't know. The gentleman said that he wanted to remain anonymous. So what should we do?

Mrs. Brown: There's only one thing to do: cook it, eat it, and have the best Christmas dinner we've ever had.

Everyone: Amen!

Tim Brown: And God bless us all, everyone.

Everyone else: (repeating) And God bless us all, everyone!

(A city street, meanwhile)

(We see Smith in the middle of dropping off a huge sack full of food, clothing, and toys at a homeless shelter. He then continues along his way, until he runs into Ghost and Niobe. They don't look too pleased to see him.)

Ghost: (suspiciously) Agent Smith.

Smith: Yes, that is my name. And I guess it's not a pleasant name for you two to hear. I've been thinking about you guys a lot, and I've decided… to give you guys a little money for your cause. Something like…

(Smith whispers something in Niobe's ear. She is astonished.)

Niobe: Oh my… Are you sure, Mr. Smith?

Smith: Yes, I am very sure. Consider it back payment for donations long overdue from me. And not one cent less.

(Niobe whispers to Ghost what Smith whispered to her. Ghost is equally astonished.)

Ghost: Wow! Th-thank you, sir! Thank you so very much!

Smith: Yes. (hands them a check, already made out to them) And you can put me down for said amount each and every year from here on.

Niobe: Thank you so much. And a very Merry Christmas to you.

Smith: And you too.

(Smith continues on. We follow him as he eventually reaches the home of Agent Thompson. He knocks on the door. Agent Thompson answers.)

Agent Thompson: Uncle?

Smith: Good morning, Agent Thompson.

Agent Thompson: Uhh, won't you come in?

Smith: Yes, thank you.

(Agent Thompson ushers Smith inside into the foyer. Agent Thompson's wife, Brittany, is also there.)

Brittany: Agent Smith?

Smith: Yes. And you must be Brittany, Agent Thompson's wife. (takes her hand and kisses it) Lovely to meet you. (turns to Agent Thompson) I just came by to ask… Your Christmas party… Do you have room for one more person?

Agent Thompson: Yes. Are you saying that you want to come? But… I thought that you thought… you know?

Smith: What? That Christmas was a humbug? A silly time for buying things? Why, whatever gave you that impression?

Agent Thompson: (puzzled) But yesterday you said…

Smith: Yes, I know. And the other reason I'm here is to say… that I was wrong. I acted like an old fool. I've been acting like an old fool for many years now. So… can you forgive an old fool, and welcome him back into your party?

Agent Thompson: Why… yes. It would be my honor.

Smith: Thank you, nephew. (turns to Brittany) You know, you're very lucky to have this man. My nephew. And he is very lucky to have _you_.

Brittany: Why, thank you, Agent Smith.

Smith: You know, I was in love once. I even had the chance to marry the woman I was in love with. But I wasted it. At the time, I didn't realize how valuable true love is. My advice to you: hold on to your true love with all your might. (to Agent Thompson) And that goes for you too.

Agent Thompson: Yes, uncle.

Brittany: Yes, sir.

Smith: Well, I must be off. But I'll be back around seven-ish. That's about when the party starts, am I right?

Agent Thompson: Yes.

Smith: Well, then, I look forward to seeing you. And a Merry Christmas to you both.

Brittany: Merry Christmas.

Agent Thompson: Merry Christmas, uncle.

(Agent HQ, the day after Christmas)

(We see a nearby clock over the street. It reads "8:00." We then see Agent Brown, running as fast as he can from down the street. He is clearly running late. We then see Smith, watching him from his office inside.)

Smith: Running late, are we Agent Brown? Well is he in for quite a surprise today. (chuckles to himself merrily, then quickly sits down at his desk and "gets into character.")

(Agent Brown enters the office and quickly hangs up his coat. He tries to sneak towards his desk and sit down as if he had gotten here on time. Just as he's about to sit down…"

Smith: _Agent Brown!_

Agent Brown: (nervous) Y-yes sir?

Smith: Step into my office, please.

(Agent Brown, trembling, does so.)

Smith: Agent Brown, what time is it?

Agent Brown: (looking at his watch) Five minutes past eight, sir.

Smith: Agent Brown, what did I tell you the other day about today?

Agent Brown: Ummm, to be here all the earlier the day after Christmas?

Smith: So why are we late getting here?

Agent Brown: I'm sorry, sir. I was… I had made rather merry all day and all night yesterday, and I ended up oversleeping. I _promise _that it will not be repeated.

Smith: You're darn right it won't be repeated. Agent Brown, you… are hereby…

(Agent Brown, so sure that he is about to be fired, is trembling greatly, bracing for it.)

Smith: ... promoted!

(It takes a moment for this to sink in. Agent Brown comes to, but is puzzled.)

Agent Brown: P-promoted?

(Smith begins to chuckle)

Smith: Yes, promoted! I have decided that for your long and faithful years in my service that you are to be promoted to… Assistant Agent in Charge. That means that you will be in charge of everyone but me. And you _will_ receive a raise, as is appropriate to your new position.

Agent Brown: Agent Smith? I… I don't know what to say, except… When can I start?

Smith: Why today of course! And that's not all. I will also assist your family whenever, wherever, and however I can, especially in the matter of your son Tim. As long as I have anything to say about it, Tim will walk again someday.

Agent Brown: W-why… thank you, sir. And God bless you.

Smith: It's my pleasure. Well, I don't know about you, but I'm freezing in here. Why don't you turn up the heat, and then we can start getting you moved into that corner office just down the hall.

(Agent Brown goes over to the thermostat and turns up the heat, then looks back at Smith, smiling. We then see Smith, some time later, knocking at Agent Brown's front door. Agent Brown answers. The two briefly chat, then Agent Brown disappears. He then returns with Tim, who Smith speaks with. Tim then accompanies Smith as he leads him towards the park. Although hobbling, Tim is walking beside Smith without the assistance of his crutch.)

Narrator (VO): (while Smith and Tim are walking) And so Agent Smith was true to his word and more. Smith, the man who just the day before called Christmas a humbug, became the holiday spirit personified. This he kept the whole year round, for every year for the rest of his life. It proved that even a ruthless, cold-blooded Agent of the Matrix can learn the true meaning, and the true value, of Christmas.

(Upon arriving at the park, Tim rushes to join the other children playing. Smith stops at the entrance and looks back. Up on a ledge, watching him, are the Merovingian, Trinity, Morpheus, and Neo. They are all waving to him, smiling; and Smith waves back, smiling as well.)

Neo: (while waving along with the others) He's still a wuss.

(Morpheus thumps him, and Neo shuts up and continues waving along with the others.)

THE END

Well, whaddya know? I got it finished, in plenty of time for Christmas. So now hopefully this story will bring a little extra Christmas cheer into your lives. Thanks to all you guys for reading this, and especially for your reviews. And thanks to WB, the Wachowski's, and anyone having to do with A Christmas Carol, for not suing.

Well, Merry Christmas, and Happy New Year 


End file.
